The Chaos Chronicles
by RaeC
Summary: SLASH: Repeat after me. I will not squirt coffee out of my nose over an uncovered keyboard. (But don't worry too much if you do. Gateway will replace it, no questions asked.) Geckos are tiny lizards. Gekko is a production company. They kinda,
1. Green Eggs & Ham

Title: Green Eggs and Ham  
Author/pseudonym: Rae C. and tarshaan  
Fandom: Um, Stargate? Highlander? Fairy Tales 'R Us?  
Pairing: Lets, see....Jack/Daniel, definitely. Methos makes an appearance. Obi Wan is used as a plot device.  
Rating: R for Adult Humor. No small animals were actually harmed (or used/abused) in the writing of this story.  
Category: Humor, definitely humor. Muse story.  
E-mail address for feedback: raec@squidge.org and tarshaan@iname.com

Websites: http://www.squidge.org/~raec and http://members.tripod.com/tarshaan   
  
Disclaimers: If any PTB want to actually claim this bit of insanity....well....er.....we are in serious trouble.  
  
Notes: "Hmm, okay....I suppose we should say something. tarsh? You have anything to say?"  
  
"Why do I feel like we need either a very effective disclaimer or a very solid shield?" tarsh points at Rae. "It's her fault!"  
  
Rae bows "Yep, I claim total responsibility for this farce."  
  
Summary: Total chaos reigns supreme. Dr. Suess invades. The muses revolt.  
  
Warnings: Well, don't bring reality. It just doesn't exist. Just in case anyone really, really, really needs to know......this is a MUSE story. And there are minor *mentions* of small animals. We didn't *do* anything with them, but there was a fox.  
  
And since this farce started because of a "Plot Bunnies 'R Us" invasion, I feel it only fair to add this:  
  
Rae grabs the poor defenseless plot bunny by the neck, and swings it over her head like David taking aim at Goliath. Unfortunately, its head pops off and Rae discovers it's not a plot bunny at all but a...... plot chicken! So she adds it to the thickening parody plot stew already containing several bunnies.  
  
'What's one more in the grand scheme of things?' snicker  
  
"See how these things start?"  
  
Rae & tarsh  
  
~~~  
//begin  
  
And now... drumroll, please... no, not like that!  
  
Green Eggs and Ham   
by Rae and tarshaan

~~~  
  
Once upon a time, there were two women drinking coffee (or tea) at the dining room table, pondering the existence of muses, plot bunnies and the various states of uncompleted fanfic in general residing on their hard drives. Meanwhile the Brothers Grimm, unbeknownst to the women, had stolen a machine from the Ghostbusters, blasting two bickering muses trying desperately to get their authors' attention away from their midnight meanderings.  
  
The muses, bickering over not being the Prime Focus of their authors' attention, had attracted the notice of muses from outside the realm of the authors' fandoms as well....  
  
"Please continue the petty bickering. I am learning much."  
  
"What!?!? Who was that!"  
  
"Data, tarsh. You know, Star Trek."  
  
"Oh. The android. Oops? Maybe we *should* do it here, then!" A feral grin crept across tarsh's face as an idea began to form.  
  
The muses, upset at the turn of events, began to protest....  
  
"Oh No! Not the 'one of our boys is dead and talking to the other again', plot line. Hey, Jack? Can't we both just be dead?"  
  
tarsh sighed and grumbled a bit but added the extra details. "All *right* then. You're both dead. Happy now?"  
  
Daniel, happy for the moment to not be the only one dead, nodded his head and joined in on the fun.  
  
Two glowing /ghosts/ appear. One reaches for the other. His hand passes through his erstwhile lover, through tarsh, and part way into the computer in front of her.  
  
"Uh, Danny? What have you gotten us into now?"  
  
"Er, what?"  
  
"Do you notice anything in particular here?"  
  
"Yeah, *we're* both dead. And?"  
  
"Yeah, and I can't touch anything. You, the computer,..." and pointing in the direction of the writer, "her."  
  
"This is *my* fault?"  
  
"You started it with that comment to the 'boffing' post. You just couldn't leave it alone could you? Had to go and wake Rae's plot bunnies."  
  
"Hey! tarsh did that, not me."  
  
"Riiiightttt."  
  
One of the writers interrupts hastily,  
  
"Hold it right there boys. I hear my name taken in vain."  
  
Two ghostly glares aim themselves at tarsh, who ducks before she can stop herself.  
  
"Damn it, at least *you* guys don't have swords." tarsh mutters. The muses ignore the interfering female to get back to the story in hand. (Before the writers lose control again, and *it* slips out of hand.)  
  
// editorial break: we *had* control? Damn, Rae, you never told me that!//  
  
"Since we're on the topic anyway, Jack, did you do it?" Daniel inquires not-so-gently, shifting his gaze from the quaking woman at the computer to glare at Jack. Having been reminded of his recent ghostly state and the cause....  
  
//editorial break here.  
  
"I did *not* quake. I *ducked*. Got that, Rae? Jack? Daniel? I do not 'quake'!"  
  
Rae snarfs. "That's not the story Methos tells......." she grins, evilly. Very, very evilly. So evilly, in fact, that every wave/particle of light in the room is sucked into the depths of her grin and extinguished in endless darkness.... ahem. Yes. Where were we?  
  
"As Methos himself has said, 'why would [he] tell the truth?' Trust me on this, I was not quaking. I wasn't even shaking a little bit. *All* I did was duck....  
  
"Well, and protect the laptop....."  
  
"See! You were quaking! I can see it now! 'Must protect laptop at all costs!'"  
  
"...or at least, at costs under that of a new 'puter...." tarsh grins. (not an evil grin. Not a grin even remotely attractive to light wave/particles, in fact.)  
  
"Uh-huh. Methos may not tell the whole truth, but he certainly does tell some of it. What's the first rule of good drama?"  
  
"Build small and start. Wasn't that it, Methos?"  
  
"No, Pretty Frocks." The sprawling muse adds before he taking a long swig from the ever present bottle of beer.  
  
"Pretty Frocks?! Pretty *Frocks*????" tarsh begins, indignantly. Daniel, somewhat afraid she will choke on her splutters, thumps her on the back. The sensation his hand makes passing through her spine shocks both of them, so that they stand there for endless moments, wide eyes peering startled at one another.  
  
"Ah, yes," tarsh manages eventually, the irritated tone of Jack's mutters at his lover finally getting through to her, if not the exact meaning of them. "Quite right. Yes. Pretty Frocks. Gotcha, Methos."  
  
"Uh-huh. Oh, by the way, did I ever tell you that I sell ocean front property.....in Arizona? I have the perfect spot. It has your name written all over it. A big "X" too, but I'm not sure why the guys insisted on painting it on the ground."  
  
"Oh, really? Wonderful! Never been to arizona. I'll send Obi over tomorrow with the payment...." tarsh replies enthusiastically. "And they already put the 'X' in? Oh, that's just too sweet! Thanks guys!"  
  
"Yeah! It's a great place. From the front porch, you can see the sea. Beautifully landscaped. All that and a bag of chips. Do you prefer Ruffles or Lays?"  
  
"Oh, Ruffles, please. And tell Obi not to eat them on the way home! Been a while since I lived near the sea.... it'll be nice to watch it during storms again. Looking forward to taking possession... tell me, is the back yard very large?"  
  
"Well....according to Napoleon, a backyard will only cost you a dollar an acre ....."  
  
//Right. Back to the petty arguments.  
  
Hold on a minute. Why is it never front to the petty arguments? I mean, if they're arguments, no matter how petty, wouldn't it make more sense to keep your front to them? That way, they'll never stab you in the back.... what? Why are you looking at me like that? Oh, yeah. Right. Front to the petty arguments.//  
  
As the authors bicker over the cause of one's blustering protestations to the contrary, the muses continue their conversation, heedless of the authors' apparent lack of control. Or, perhaps, revelling in it....  
  
"Do what? Oh not that again! For Christ's sake, Daniel!"  
  
"Well, how do you explain it, Jack? You were moaning!"  
  
"Of course I was moaning. The guy hit me!"  
  
"Riiight. That's why you've got those scratches on your back, because he hit you. Suuuure."  
  
"I fell, Daniel! FELL down a hill filled with bushes after I was hit with the stun gun!"  
  
"Tell another one, Jack. Got another leg to pull here. I suppose they were five fingered shrubs?"  
  
//editorial comment: "We must ride to save the shrubbery! My kingdom for a shrub. Or was that a horse?"  
  
"I believe it was a nail. I have one if you'd like. Although with that nice Arizona ocean view property, I have no need of a kingdom right at present...." //end commercial break.  
  
Another voice appears, breaking into the full-blown argument erupting amongst the agitated men.  
  
"Er, ah, guys? Isn't this how you how you became ghosts in the first place?"  
  
In unison, the men bite back. "Butt out!"  
  
"Okay, okay!" Rae raises her hands and walks a short distance off. "Fickle muses. Can't live with them, can't torture them."  
  
And so the authors continue with their own petty bickering...  
  
"Actually, Rae," tarsh decides to enlighten her fellow writer, "you *can* torture them. See?" and she points to a piece on her hard drive that Methos has sworn will never see the light of day.... 'good thing it's 3:30 am here,' she thinks idly to herself. Otherwise, she could have a *really* dangerous muse on her hands.... a five thousand year old intellect is not really something it's wise to piss off, not even theoretically....  
  
"Er, tarsh? Now I'll be the first to admit, evidenced by my own hard drive and a few select stories already put out on the web, that muses are *highly* - well....fragile. But.....not when they are... ephemeral!!!!" Rae paces the room, irritated at this turn of events. "I mean all you can do is *angst*! No h/c, no cuddling, no *sex*! I do not like this Sam I am."  
  
"But, Rae, this non corporeality of theirs *is* a torture all by itself! Besides, you *adore* angst! I submit for your consideration Evidence Exhibit A: one webpage, containing fanfiction in the Highlander and Stargate SG-1 fandoms."  
  
"I know! I know! And therein lies my problem! DAMNITALLTOHELLO, what's this?"  
  
"Excuse me," a slightly diffident voice interrupts the two Writers, "but, well.... shouldn't you be talking about torturing us where we *can't* hear? You know, out of... suspense... or something like that?"  
  
"Or," interrupts an utterly non diffident voice, "at the very least so we don't skip out on the big scenes in advance...."  
  
tarsh looks at Rae. "Well, they have a point...."  
  
"Yes, and I have several well sharpened ones with their names on them....only I'm suffering from a lack of *substance* on which to employ them! Egon, would you please hurry with that machine? tarsh, never ever let Ghostbusters out of their box unattended, no matter how hard small children plead."  
  
"Well, that's easily solved, Rae. Simply make the well sharpened points ethereal ones. Then they'll slide right on in with hardly a hitch."  
  
"Oh right! Then I'll need to employ a ghostly power to shoot the damn things, and I'm fresh out of "Ghost" at the moment. The particular parties having been absconded by Heaven and Hell respectively, if you catch my drift? And no, this has absolutely *nothing* to do with Tommy Lee Jones."  
  
"Oh, and for the technically minded amongst us, how *do* you manage to get names on a point, anyway? Given that, technically, anything wide enough to carve letters (or names!) on is no longer a point, but a line or a rectangle...." tarsh realizes she's in danger of betraying her dabblings in the heretical field of mathematics, and trails off.  
  
"Well, first of all you put their names on the side of the point, not the actual point itself. And secondly,......have you met my little friend? Meet Mr. Needle. Nice square head. Can you say pain? Sure you can."  
  
"Uh..." tarsh gulps, eyeing Rae's needle nervously. "Yeah, right. Okay. Got it. The side of the point. Right. Sure. Uh, do you want to borrow a muse to aim that thing at? The duncanmuse-that-isn't is still corporeal, I believe?"  
  
"And you!" Rae turns on the muses who'd had the nerve to fall from the plot line. "Back to the story!"  
  
"Sarcasm does not become you." Intoned a third voice......  
  
"Generally not, no" responds a fourth. "Sarcasm not coming equipped with actual cloning properties, or anything. Makes it difficult for the transformation to occur, never mind stick."  
  
"Egon...not that I'm complaining here....but couldn't you have at least made the *fix* less...messy?"  
  
"Well, since you're not complaining.... probably. Yes. Why?"  
  
"Why do I bother? Because now we'll have to clean it up! Hello!"  
  
"Um, but didn't we already exchange greetings tonight? Oh, and that's why we brought the hoover, no?"  
  
"No, that was for carpet cleaning. We need a wet/dry vac for this mess."  
  
A shout of "Damnit Danny!" causes the bickering voices to look back (and what does a voice look like, anyway? Short and squat, or tall and round? Skinny, skelly, skolly, or skally?). One ghostly figure is struggling to maintain its hold on the other, and in the process shedding ectoplasm everywhere-  
  
"Ewwweeeh! I've been slimed!" Rae yelps disgustedly. "tarsh! Do something! Next thing you know the Staypuff Marshmallow Man will make an appearance. "  
  
"Really? Wonderful. Have you got the flame thrower primed yet Jack? I always did like toasted marshmallows.... "  
  
"Would you prefer to drown in it, or be crushed by it?" Jack enquires sweetly....  
  
"uh...."  
  
"Woah! Back up! I thought we couldn't touch each other?"  
  
"Editorial licence, Jack," tarsh replied somewhat smugly. What was it Patrick Stewart said? 'This is science fiction, we can do things like that'...."  
  
"'And here I thought it was our imaginations.'" Rae laughs quietly behind her hand. "'If you dream it, they will come.'"  
  
"NO! WAIT!!!! Not on the........artifacts."  
  
"Oops? Sorry 'bout the artefacts, Danny.... you'll just have to lick 'em  
  
clean, I guess.... I'm sure Jack won't have any objections...."  
  
Meanwhile, turning with speed heretofore unimagined, Jack lets loose a spray of bullets. tarsh sighs and protects her computer from the ricochets, *not* quaking even the ittiest iota. When finally all the bouncing and rebounding and noise has died done, Rae, tarsh, and Daniel peer in slightly stunned incomprehension at the bloody mess that was probably once something approximating human.  
  
"Well," Jack comments, blowing imaginary smoke from his ghostly gun, "we may be dead, but at least our bullets still impact upon the living world. Never could stand Kevin Costner."  
  
Rae begins counting to herself.  
  
"One."  
  
Sheep.  
  
//excuse me while we pause for a commercial break: "Have you ever suffered from the debilitating effects of Literary Addiction?" Camera pans off in the distance toward a female being pulled away from her collection of books, which litters every available surface. All the while she is screaming internet archive addresses at the populace. "The Loft!" "Due South" "The Highlander Net Cafe!" "HLQC!" "Area 52" "The Vampire Chronicles Online!" "M-A" "WWOMB"  
  
"Wombat?"  
  
"No, WWOMB, the Wonderful World of Make Believe. Another *drug* pusher in the fic world on the net. These poor folks suffer from more than just an addiction to such Literary classics as Tolstoy's "War and Peace", or Dickens "Tale of Two Cities". No; the victims of this dreaded disease suffer a thing far, far more terrible. They suffer from (whispering in horror) not being able to let one particle of the written word pass by their eyes - or fingers, as the case may be."  
  
Click. Boring channel. We now return you to your regularly scheduled broadcast lineup. //end commercial break.  
  
"Two."  
  
Sheep.  
  
'Deep breath.'  
  
"Three."  
  
Sheep. Four.  
  
//editorial note: That's Poe-ta-toes! Not sheep! You know, as in potato, poetatoe, tomato, toematoe. snicker //end.  
  
//converse editorial note: That's sheep! She-eep. Sheep. Trust me on that, there were a lot where I grew up. I had ample (too ample if you ask me) to observe the principle in action. It's *sheep*.//end.  
  
//yet another editorial note: No, it's potato. Do I need to drag out the Big Book of Children's Nursery Rhymes? I know you've had a somewhat unconventional upbringing, but not even NZ would change a rhyme that much. Would they? And besides, sheep is too close to another four legged creature with horns, and if you start off on that tangent, you know where that will lead right? Rae mutters not nice things about particular poets and their fondness for "Doc" and Laudanum and farm animals.//end yet another useless editorial note. eg  
  
//again? Yes! Again!: Well can you blame him when it comes to Doc? I mean, just *look* at the man! That take-me-now-damnit sprawl, those eyelashes, that half-smile.... //Author temporarily unavailable to finish comment. Please wait for her to re-solidify//  
  
'Patience is a virtue.'  
  
'Patience is a virtue.'  
  
'Patience is a virtue.'  
  
'Oh what the hell, I lost all of mine years ago.' Rae mumbles to herself. "Jack, now what in tarnation am I supposed to do with the Dancing Wolves?"  
  
//editorial comment: just what is tarnation anyway? A nation of tar?wouldn't that be awfully.... sticky?//end.  
  
"Have Perrin take care of them." Jack shrugs, not in the least feeling guilty. The wide, satisfied grin on his face never wavers for a second.  
  
"But he's a werewolf. WERE WOLF. Besides, my contract with the muse council states that he will *never* be required to dance. Especially in wolf form."  
  
"So, call it prancing.... eg Nothing like keeping to the letter of the agreement, especially when it comes to dealing with them pesky muses and that council o' theirs!" tarsh advises, sotto voce.  
  
"But then the starbellied snetches would have none on thars!" Rae protests energetically.  
  
Jack shrugs. "Not my problem. Daniel? Any suggestions?"  
  
"Oh no, Jack. I'm not being drug into this one. You brought this one on all by yourself. Typical military. Shoot first, ask questions later. Which brings me back to the original topic.....  
  
"Did you *have* to slip me that psychoactive hallucinogen with my coffee? I mean, I know you're hung up on the past tense of drag, but wasn't drugging me to make your point going just a *bit* far?  
  
"And I suppose now you're going to try and tell me that that's *not* a hickey on your throat!"  
  
"Um, Danny? It *is* a hickey."  
  
"And furthermore- what did you say?"  
  
"It's a hickey."  
  
cough, splutter, choke "You're going to stand there and tell me you let that .... that.... *boy*...."  
  
"Daniel. Daniel! *You* put it there...."  
  
"Well, what do you know?" tarsh asks the world at large somewhat bemusedly. "Hey, Rae, seems ghosts *can* blush, after all...."  
  
"We are borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."  
  
//editorial comment: uh-oh..... squeak, bang, thump We are Borg. Resistance is futile.//  
  
~~~~

Meanwhile, in a dining room far, far away, but not too far, in fact not far at all, in fact it very well could be the same dining room....

~~~~  
"Well, according to Methos, no. But then, nobody's too old for *anything*, according to Methos.... snicker"  
  
"Ah, a man after my own heart. eg There was this film.........."  
  
"Cocoon?" tarsh interrupts, brightly.  
  
"Bingo! Oh wait, that was a dog. snicker You get two points!"  
  
"Two? Gee, so I guess that's one to use on Jack, and one to use on Daniel.... what about Methos? What do I get for him?"  
  
"The World According to Garp." All light wave/particles suddenly disappear from the room, drawn despite themselves to disappear in the direction of Rae's face. Blinking in the total darkness resulting, tarsh concludes, correctly, that Rae has once again displayed her very, very evil grin....  
  
"Uh," she gulps, shivering. "Garp? Here?" she looks nervously about, staring into the black depths surrounding here. "Uh, Methos?" she calls tentatively.  
  
"Give me a hand, here? I think Rae's just called a Garp muse into existence...."  
  
~~~~  
In a strange twist of timelines, the writers are left blinking in the sudden light of a new conversation....  
~~~~~  
  
"Well, you were complaining about the NC-17 we were converting Dr. Seuss to, and you still want us to slash them here, there, and everywhere?"  
  
"Nah, that was just fodder for the plot bunny canon to get you to write the Jack/Daniel scene with the boys arguing over Jack's *supposed* infidelity with an underaged lad, that never in the *strictest* sense happened."  
  
"It never happened in *any* sense, Rae, and you better believe it!"  
  
"Well, that's what Daniel thought....*not* me. You're the one sporting the hickey and the five finger discount on skin."  
  
"Now, Jack, put the gun down.... you know you can't just kill the Writer..."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because I have a pen and I'm not afraid to use it." Rae snickers as she takes the eraser on the pen and wipes away Jack's gun, leaving the muse sputtering, empty-handed.  
  
~~~~  
And, again, the timelines flip, leaving two hopelessly beSeussed writers in their wake....   
~~~~  
  
"Why, yes, yes I am. I am Sam. Sam I am." Rae snickers evilly, her eyes gleaming with a maniacal light.  
  
"So if we lace the green eggs or the ham with an appropriate, uh, inspirational agent, does that mean we'll get somewhere?" tarsh responds, completely oblivious to the barrage she is about to unleash....  
  
"Would you like it here or there?" Rae demands, and before she can stop herself tarsh catches herself answering....  
  
"Well, there. I mean all i'm gonna do is ship it to you... so there is definitely less postage involved g. I might like it there, not here."  
  
"Would you like it in a house? With a mouse?"  
  
"Well, I know I wouldn't like it in a plane or on a train. The postage would simply be ruinous there! Not here! Maybe there! But not on a plane! Not in a train!"  
  
"Would you slash them in a box? Would you slash them with a fox? snarf  
  
//editorial comment: damn, I thought you caught all the snarfs last time you went snipe-hunting with Teal'c, Jack? There's still loose ones running about, maybe you should call another hunt?//  
  
"Would you? Could you? In a car?  
Slash them! Slash them!!  
Here they are!"  
  
"Well... in a car? I would not! Could not! In a car!  
  
"I'm too damn old for that!  
  
"And in a box! Come on, how pretzeled are we supposed to get for a little nooky? There are easier ways, I'm telling you! And as for with a fox... bestiality just skyrockets the age ratings, you know? Not in a box! Not with a fox! Not in a train, not on a plane, not over a house, not under a mouse! I will not slash them, Sam I am! I do not like this game you plan!"  
  
// "Who said there had to be nooky? All I said was you could *use* a box and a fox!!!! I'm not upgrading this here, (er, what the hell is this we are writing?) to NC-17 just to make it fit Dr. Suess."  
  
"Well, you're the one calling us to slash them here, slash them there, let us slash them everywhere!"  
  
tarsh blinks, overcome by the weirdest sense of deja-vu. Haven't we been here already?  
  
"No, wait. Isn't that the Scarlet Pimpernel?"  
  
"ACK!!!! I haven't seen that one yet. Movie, book, or A&E version?"  
  
"Musical, actually." cue evil maniacal laughter  
  
"OOOOOOOOOOklahoma is the place I love......" Oh wait, wrong musical, right? On a Clear Day You Can See Forever? Camelot? Zigfield Follies? Singing in the Rain? "Oh, I'm singin' in the rain, just singin' in the rain. What a glorious feelin', I'm happy again....."//end ramble.  
  
"Perhaps a tree? You will like it. Just you see....."  
  
"Up a tree? Not with me! None will like it, leave us be!"  
  
"Not in a box, never use a fox, Not in a house, not chasing a mouse, Not here, but maybe there.....  
  
Anywhere?  
A train, A train!  
Would you? Could you? In a train?"  
  
"No! Not with a train, not out a plane (those uncomfortable seats! Those  
  
tiny bathrooms! That lack of legroom!), not from a house, not on a mouse, not up a box, not in a fox, not over a tree, not under with tea!"  
  
"Say? In the dark? Here in the dark! Would you, could you, in the dark?"  
  
"In the dark? On the park? With a lark? To a bark? Hark? Hark! Would I? Could I? On your mark.... "  
  
"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,  
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore---  
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,  
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.  
"'T is some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door----  
  
Only this and nothing more." (Hey ya, Edgar! Long time no see...)  
  
The two writers sat sipping coffee as the late hour pressed upon them again.  
  
"So, do we need more sleep or less sleep to do this right?" tarsh muses absently, picking chocolate off a wrapper with her fingers.  
  
Rae snickers, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes..."A little bit of both......Mambo #5!"  
  
"Hmm. So are we getting better, or worse? And which is the preferable direction to go?" tarsh grins back, barely able to hold her cup steady. Damn steads, never did want to cooperate with the rest of the world....  
  
"Bloody hell. Neither it seems." Wiping the stray moisture from her face, Rae held the laughter back, a snort or two sneaking through despite her best efforts.  
  
"Cheeky bugger." The females paused their conversation at the sudden influx of armed militants entering the room. With the insignia of Rico's Rangers marking their shoulders, the force gunned for the new breed of bugs with cheeks, failing to notice that the only inhabitants of room were human in nature. Machine gun fire strafed the walls, floor, and rafters bringing the entire building down upon all the hapless denizens of the caffeine-induced psychogenic realm.  
  
"Well, there's one thing to be said for being a ghost..." Rae wandered about her former lodgings, determined to lift pad and pen from the floor.  
  
"What's that?" tarsh piped up as she picked her way across the rubble toward her friend, clutching her laptop protectively in her arms.  
  
"We can only be *knocked off* once." Rae smiled. An evil, satan-spawned smile to be sure. "What is it that they say about making your own hell? Got your pen handy? One fish, Two fish, Red fish, Blue fish......."  
  
"Oh, boy! Al! Al!!!"  
  
~~~~~  
  
And thus concludes our unscheduled programing for the day. All rise for the National Anthem........  
  
"Yeah, but *whose* national anthem? I vote for mine, if only because the damned thing is shorter. Unless of course," tarsh pauses speculatively, "you had duelling anthems in mind...?  
  
//End  



	2. Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire

Title: Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire  
Author: Rae C. and tarshaan  
email: raec@squidge.org and tarshaan@iname.com

Category: Total Chaos. Oh, and it's a Comedy. Just thought I'd add that in case you haven't figured it out yet.  
Website: http://www.squidge.org/~raec and http://members.tripod.com/tarshaan/ 

Feedback: *Feed* me, Semore. Love you long time.  
  
Disclaimer: Repeat after me. I will not squirt coffee out of my nose over an uncovered keyboard. (But don't worry too much if you do. Gateway will replace it, no questions asked.) Geckos are tiny lizards. Gekko is a production company. They kinda, sorta, in a mysterious way, 'own' Stargate. Along with a whole bunch of other folks. But see...one day...their characters ran away. g And we caught 'em. Then they wanted them back. (Now is that fair, I ask you? It was, like, a total bummer, dude.) And now the guys have to operate under the 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' policy. (Please don't spit on the floor. Use the appropriate receptacle provided for such occasions.) The Men in Black don't ask what happened or why the muses were returned in such deplorable condition. And the guys don't tell. (After all, who would believe them? mwahahahahah) But we're still hoping for a call back.   
  
Synopsis: Pandora wanted to know what would happen if she was allowed out to play.  
  
Notes: Rae had writer's block. Jack, Daniel, and friends smothered it. (Celebrity appearances courtesy of Muses R Us and The Muse Council. Disclaimer: The MRU and TMC take no responsibility for any mishaps which befall muses stupid enough to show up on Rae's doorstep. They get what they deserve. All muses must sign a Waiver of Indemnity form before *ALL* such appearances. Should you decide to accept this mission, the MRU and TMC will disclaim all knowledge of your existence. This message will self destruct in five seconds.) 

Rae 'drug' tarsh along for the ride. Now ya'll just have to understand how traumatizing this was for the innocent lass from New Zealand. Made to suffer late nights with a demented, twisted mind born, bred, and harbored on the East Coast, USA. And even the Curse of the Mid-Term Exams didn't prevent the fall from Grace. Now, she's languishing in DC with only a convention to restore her sanity. 

Meanwhile, Rae ran off to the Islands. (Cue maniacal laughter.) The Pacific Islands, that is. Guam. (Jed, have you seen the Captain?)

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale. A tale of a fateful trip. That started from this tropic port when poor old Daniel slipped....  
  
Warnings: Do we really need to add warnings? Like, tarsh and I wrote it, see? We *are* slash writers. And we are.....*nuts*! (see Reference 1 in Addendum A, 'Green Eggs and Ham'.) 

Never wear a black bra with a white shirt, unless Madonna has made it the new fashion statement of the year. (Of course if your intent was to wear the shear white shirt, then by all means go right ahead. Just let me know when it shows up in Playboy so I can get a copy.) 

Don't drink. Don't smoke. Oh what the hell, just have fun and don't hurt anybody. (Um, and please, whatever you do...don't follow our example. We know we're crazy. For gosh sakes, we're not role models. I fully intend to corrupt my child...when she grows up.) 

Blatant attempts at humor abound.

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away, Rae purred to tarsh: 'Wanna play?'

rolls eyes "Like you didn't already know the answer to that?"  
  
~~-~~

Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire

~~-~~  
  
Looking at the planet, nobody would ever have guessed how contrary it could be. How much it seemed a living creature getting its rocks off, rather than an inanimate object. Daniel sighed heavily from his current muddy position on the ground.  
  
"Hey Daniel?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Not that I'm complaining or anything...but do you plan to spend all day down there?"  
  
"No, Jack. I just thought I'd save myself the trouble of falling down the hill again."  
  
"You would have to ascend to the top in order to fall down the hill again, DanielJackson."  
  
He would have thought the glare he sent Teal'c's way would have been enough to make *some* impression on the man, but even the sly humour visible in his face stood firm under the heated gaze. Sighing, Daniel took the hand Jack was holding out and pulled himself up. Only to find himself standing ankle deep in mire. Wincing, he stepped out of the localized puddle and rejoined his far-too-spotless team-mates.  
  
"If I could ever reach the top, Teal'c." Daniel attempted to wipe some of the grime from his clothing splashing mud 'accidentally' onto Jack in the process.  
  
"Hey!" Jack sputtered jumping back. The hurried movements sent Jack pin wheeling to save his balance. "You did that on purpose."  
  
"Did not."  
  
"Did too."  
  
"Not."  
  
"Too."  
  
"If you 'boys' are finished..."

~~~

"Well at least I didn't ask *you* to play Dr. Suess." Rae chuckled evilly.

"Thank the gods. It's finals next week; I shudder to think what would have happened with *that*...."

~~~  
  
Twin glares swung to fry Sam, and she hurriedly raised her hands. "We do have a planet to reconoitre, remember?"  
  
Daniel carefully pretended not to hear Jack's muttered "yeah, and most of it was on *him* before he decided to share it with me." Giving up on getting any cleaner, he fished out a mostly unmuddy handkerchief from his pocket and wearily wiped the amazingly sticky mud from his glasses. This stuff was going to itch like hell once it dried.  
  
"So," he asked the world at large, "what next?"  
  
~~~  
"What's next?" With a quick gulp, Rae polished off her lunch. "tarsh! You left it hanging again!"  
  
"Oh, like we weren't planning to screw 'em all anyway?!"

"Well, I had Jack and Daniel screwing, mind you. I'm still not sure about Sam and Teal'c. Besides, they are supposed to be the plot devices." Rae snarfed. "One of many yet to come." 

"Uh, anybody else having deja-vu here...? And as for Devicus Ploticus? You know, I think we have the scientific name for that critter here Rae...."

"You mean like a plot bunny? I thought we ran them all off with our last story. We'll have to break out the plot chickens again. Something about the darn things running around with their heads cut off seems to scare the bejezus out of the wee little wabbits." Rae contemplates the imagined mayhem with merciless glee.

"No, I mean like that nasty thing with big teeth that's going to come along in chapter 6.73 and force Daniel and Jack to - oh, wait. This line isn't secure. Talk later." 

click click click "This call is being routed to the Pentagon, please deposit twenty-five cents for the next five minutes. This is a recording."

~~~

"Ask and ye shall receive." Jack bit out as the first huge drop hit his nose. "Couldn't just keep your comments to yourself, could you?"  
  
"Colonel?" Sam hastily interjected.  
  
"What!"  
  
"I think we better run."  
  
"Why?" Jack turned quickly in the mud, sliding on his butt in the sludge.  
  
"Now, sir!"  
  
~~~  
"You know....I still have that blue fish from last go around hanging about. And the poor thing keeps getting bluer every day." Rae dug in her purse for the pitiful rendition of an aquatic creature. 

"ah, well. if you leave it to turn blue long enough, eventually it'll become red. then you'll know its time to let it roam."  
  
~~~  
  
Finally regaining his feet, Jack caught sight of what had Sam so worried. "Oh, for crying out loud," he muttered under his breath. Scrambling to catch up to where the others stood waiting impatiently for him, he risked another glance over his shoulder.  
  
"Come *on*, Jack!" Daniel shouted, almost dancing in the rain. "We have to get out of here *now*!"  
  
"Don't you think I *know* that?" Jack bit out, as they leapt into a run. "Carter, you go ahead, look for someplace to shelter from that... that... from that. Teal'c, cover the back trail, make sure nothing's following.  
  
"Damn it," he added, swearing to himself, "the damned MALP didn't show any life signs here...."  
  
~~~  
  
"Roam!? You want me to let it roam!? But it's such a new fish! Has definite advantages over the old fish."

"Well, I did say 'eventually'. By then it will be an old fish. Or a cold fish. You decide."

"It's already cold, that's why it's blue. And it's only one fish, not two fish, so it can't breed. Still a new fish, not an old fish, and certainly not tall or short fish. Could be a dead fish here soon though."

"well... it can't breed. However, it could clone. Hmm. Wouldn't having offspring with yourself be the ultimate in inbreeding?

"I don't think that would be inbreeding, do you? That would require the participation of more than one set of genes. Since we are working with only one set, albeit one that had been rejected a long time ago, I guess you could call it self breeding."   
  
~~~  
  
The rain pelted down making the ground slicker and added yet another sinister dimension to their mission. They couldn't run, let alone walk in the sucking firmament. And it only got worse from there.  
  
The animal bared its teeth showcasing deadly razor-sharp fangs complete with lashing tail. Larger than most of the crocs on earth, this one seemed to have no interest in them, but rather escaping any way 'it' could. A sliver of apprehension ran down Daniel's back.  
  
Concentrating on climbing, he almost missed the noise echoing in the background. It was a familiar yet deadly sound. 'Oh hell.' Daniel yelled over his shoulder into the building storm.  
  
"Climb, damn it!"  
  
"What!?"  
  
"Flash flood!"  
  
"Teal'c!"  
  
"I am here, ColonelO'Neill." Teal'c pushed and prodded his way up the hill, half dragging Daniel and Jack with him. Sam reached the crest, relinquishing her position as point when Jack arrived.

~~~

"And the winner with the fastest response time is...Maria! So, Maria. Are you ready to play, Who Beta'd This Thing?"

"You betcha, Regis."

"Well, lets get to it. First question for one hundred days free of beta duty...in the story 'Out of the Frying Pan' the authors incorrectly stated:

a. I want a second opinion.

b. I have but one question for my fellow man.

c. I have a dream.

d. Sam reached the crest, relinquishing her position as point when Jack arrived."

"I'm pretty sure the answer is 'D' but I want to poll the audience to be sure."

"Well, audience, you heard her...lock in your votes!"

Polling the audience, 98% of them agreed that 'D' was the answer. Two percent gave up on trying to follow the plotline and just sat back to ride the waves.

"See, I knew 'D' was the answer. Because if they've reached the crest of the hill, from whence cometh the bits of rock onto their heads?"

The audience erupted with laughter.

Fade to black.

"Ah, the Perils of Penelope." Rae bangs her head on the uncovered keyboard. "I really have to pay more attention to content before I send out the new parts. And in this world especially. It changes at whim to provide the next obstacle for our boys for whichever one of us is adding bits at the time."  
  
"Or, well, nobody's looked *up* yet, Rae. So...how do you feel about dive-bombing pterodactyls?"  
  
"Hmm....they are tough leathery creatures. How about a Griffin instead? I mean we already have one, what the hell did you call that thing again? Say, have you noticed we seem to have this lizard/reptile fetish this time around? We need to add something with feathers, say like a Star Belly Sneech...or something."  
  
~~~

(Due to viewer demand, we've changed this last sentence, therefore we are repeating ourselves.)

"I am here, ColonelO'Neill." Teal'c pushed and prodded his way up the hill, half dragging Daniel and Jack with him. Sam reached the enclosure at the crest, relinquishing her position as point when Jack arrived.  
  
  
Heaving, they all flopped down onto the rocky outcrop as lightening struck yet again overhead. Thunder rolled, shaking the fragile stone and sent bits of rock down on their heads.  
  
"What the hell *is* that?"  
  
"Crocodile, Sir."  
  
"*That* thing?" A comical expression slid over his face as Jack turned to Sam. "I don't think we are on the same planet here Major."  
  
~~~  
  
tarsh wearily rubbed her eyes. "Okay, am going to bed now. Catch you up tomorrow. That is, if no one's voted to kill us yet," she smirked as she leaned over to whisper in Rae's ear. "ok, *you* split them."

"You would. sigh mumble, mumble, mumble...holding the bag...mumble, mumble, mumble...secret messages...mumble, mumble, mumble...can't take the fifth...mumble, mumble, mumble...say, does this mean I get to enact the military clause? You know... if the secret gets out, we get to knock them off?"

"no, you *can't* take the fifth. That's *my* fifth. I'm drinking it. Go get your own."

"I already had my fifth! That was last night. Besides, it's 7 a.m. and do you know where *your* stories are? After taking the fifth, they have a tendency to run away. But on the other hand I am enacting the Military Clause!"  
  
~~~  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Uh, Sam..." Daniel pointed wordlessly into the distance, feeling his jaw drop embarrassingly far, yet unable to do anything about it in the face of the creature now turning its head toward the rumbling water.  
  
"My God... that's got to be at least a couple of miles away," Sam said slowly. "It's huge... that has to be a record for a living organism, surely. Maybe a descendent of the dinosaurs - it does look sort of like a cross between a brontosaur, a t-rex, and a-"  
  
"Major!" Jack interrupted, "Get to the important things. Can it see this far? Will it think we are dinner?"  
  
"Dinner?" Daniel spun. "Surely if it were a carnivore we would see some signs of its prey, and the MALP showed no large life forms...."  
  
"The MALP," Jack bit out, "obviously has a rather different definition of life form than we do. Why else would it be *moving this way*?"  
  
"Oh, there's no need to worry sir, it's far enough away that we will be able to reach shelter long before it arrives here."  
  
"What shelter?" Jack asked bitingly, just as Teal'c spoke up.  
  
"Then it is no threat at this moment," Teal'c announced reasonably, "unlike," raising a soggy arm, "*that*."  
  
~~~  
  
"Now why would they want to kill us?"  
  
~~~  
  
The crocodile reared its ugly head, a loud hissing sound enveloping their small cave.  
  
"Oh hell." SG-1 ran. Sam and Teal'c scrambled over the ledge scurrying for even higher ground whilst Jack and Daniel ran for all they were worth toward the forest.  
  
"I think that qualifies as a large life form, don't you?"  
  
"For gods sake, Jack, not...now." Heaving with the effort to breathe, run, and forget that their lives were flashing before their eyes, Daniel and Jack tried to put as much distance between the crocodile and the snake-like creature approaching from the south as they could.  
  
"Any...idea...what...lives...in...there?"  
  
"Not...a...clue."  
  
"Bet...has...teeth."  
  
"Planet...has...fucking...teeth."

~~~

"oh gods, Rae, just *remember* you asked for it...."  
  
"Hey! You started it with that line about 'Looking at the planet...' "

~~~  
  
"Right."  
  
Reaching the relative safety of the forest, they raced for the largest tree and climbed. Fast.  
  
"Where's Carter?"  
  
"Dunno. Teal'c?"  
  
"Can't see either of them. Which way did they go?"  
  
"How should I know? I was kinda busy, Jack."  
  
"Just look!"  
  
"Uh, Jack?"  
  
"What now?" Jack rolled his eyes heavenward.  
  
"Uh, Jack!" Daniel was near frantic now, grabbing onto his arm. "We really, really need to run!"

Jack banged his head against the tree trunk softly several times before looking to where Daniel pointed. Things just couldn't... yes they could. Shit.  
  
"Uh, Jack?"  
  
"Yes Daniel?"  
  
"Duck.... *now*."  
  
Jack swore and complied, clocking himself a good one in the process. Damn trees, branches everywhere. A glob of spittle raced over him, right through where his head had been. "Gee, thanks, Daniel. That was real nice of you," he muttered through the ring in his ears. "Any other native insults you'd like to warn me about?"  
  
"Daniel?"  
  
Reaching his hand over, he shook his partner. Daniel started and turned wide blue eyes, magnified even larger and brighter by the glasses he wore, on his friend.  
  
"Daniel? You alright, Daniel?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"*Daniel*?"  
  
"The tree, Jack. Look at the tree."  
  
Jack stiffened. He knew that tone of voice. Recognised it, and dreaded it. Slowly, he turned his head.  
  
The massive scar in the tree's bark caught his eye first. He frowned; it hadn't been there when they'd first got to this branch. In fact, it was spreading....

~~~  
  
"oh, i don't know... something about a planet, and mud, and a flashflood, and a crocodile, and a something-big-that-is-not-a-crocodile, and the fact that no is bonking anyone yet, in sight or not....  
  
that, and general paranoia... "

Sallye: "Oh no, no killing. I'm definitely enjoying the planet eatin', mud suckin', monkey spittin' story. But let's get to the boinking, shall we? I've been slowly reading Phoenix's Pure of Heart, trying to let het finish before I catch up. The angst is killing me! Boinking - I need lots of muddy, slippery boinking!"

"Well, we still have to torture them some more before we get to the boinking parts. It is kinda hard to bonk when monkeys are spitting acid at you, don't you think?"

~~~  
  
"Uh, Daniel?"  
  
"Yes, Jack?"  
  
"Is that what I think that is?"  
  
"Yes. It is."  
  
"Great," Jack muttered, turning his head to the sky, "acid-spitting monkeys. Why couldn't it have been something simple, like fire?"  
  
"Uh, Jack?"  
  
Jack dropped his head forward again, banged it twice more against the tree trunk, carefully avoided the acid-splash.  
  
"Don't tell me, Danny. Just wake me up. I swear I'll never eat chili before bed again. Just wake me up...."  
  
"Jack?"  
  
Jack raised his head, reluctantly, eyed Daniel with a decidedly disgruntled look on his face. "I'm not asleep, am I?"  
  
Daniel shook his head somberly. "No. But, Jack-"  
  
Jack waved his hands, cut off whatever Daniel was going to stay. He looked around, and then almost wished he hadn't. Three monkeys were sitting a tree over, watching them. Another four perched in another tree. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied another group. Several of the small apes were furiously working the muscles of their throats; clearly gearing up for something. More of those acid spitballs, he realised with a wince.  
  
Great. These things hunted in packs. Raising his eyes to the sky, he found himself half-praying, "Oh, come *on*! Give us a break here!"  
  
In the silence following his shout, the soft creak beneath them was ominous in its intensity....

~~~

Cackling, tarsh shuts her laptop down with a satisfied snap. "Your turn rae! Now I'm gonna go have another go at this 'sleep' thing... catch you later."  
  
Gail sauntered in and recoiled from her computer in terror. "And you two want to know WHY I go quilting on Tuesday nights?????" rotfl "I am SO glad I wasn't around to be drug into this!"

Rae gawfs. "Quilting is just your excuse to run away." 

"What, you don't like the way we play?" tarsh puts on her best pout. It didn't work.  
  
"It's that 12 step program, tarsh. She only made it to the third round. We have to start all over again." 

Gail hastily backtracks, desperately trying to regain her Master's favour. "Oh... I have NO problem with the way you play... I have a problem with the way you tend to drag *me* into it!"  
  
"Oh... and Master?.... You WILL share that fifth with your faithful Padawan, yes?"   
  
"No! Mine! Go get your own."

"Egads! Share?" Rae makes the sign of the cross. "That's...that's....that's sacrilege! You don't share a fifth of JackDaniels, you let it slide over your tongue in absolute ecstasy." 

"Fine!!!! See if I share with *you* two again!" Of course, Gail can pout with the best of them. So she did.   
  
~~~  
  
The monkeys screeched, jumping around on branches and spitting haphazardly in every direction before taking off into the darker recesses of the forest. The branch Jack and Daniel had used for their getaway, gave way under the combined weight of the men. They landed hard on the forest floor.  
  
"Uh, Daniel? Do I really want to look?"  
  
"Nope. Wouldn't." Stark fear reflected on his face.  
  
They took off like bats out of hell, neither one knowing where they were going, just running. Roots rose out of the ground, seeking to entrap them. Stumbling over each other in haste, neither one noticed the marsh until they were upon it and *in* it.  
  
"Ow. Ow. Ow!" Daniel hopped around on one foot.  
  
"What now?"  
  
"Nothing, I just stubbed my toe."  
  
"Your toe? You make all that noise over a toe!"  
  
"No, I just felt like making noise for no reason." Daniel turned around to blast Jack again. "Uh, Jack. What do you think is wrong with them?"  
  
Jack tossed a cautious glance over his shoulder in the direction that Daniel nodded his head. "Geckos." He breathed out in relief.  
  
~~~

"Not to be confused with Geico. But don't you think the boys need some insurance by now?"

~~~  
  
"I really hate to bring this up, but..."  
  
"I know, I know, I know!"  
  
"Well?"  
  
"How in the hell should I know?" Jack threw his arms up in the air in frustration. The small lizards were perched on a rock at the edge of the marsh watching them expectantly. Something brushed against Jack's leg pushing him into Daniel. Rock hard muscle greeted his hands as he fell forward.  
  
"Been working out?"  
  
"Only for the last hour."  
  
"I think we have to get out of the water."  
  
"But what about them?"  
  
"Daniel, I didn't trip. Something pushed me."  
  
Daniel hopped out of the water as fast as he could, Jack nearly laughing at the comical display. He followed only slightly slower, but hesitated when Daniel pulled out his knife.  
  
"Uh, Daniel?"  
  
"Don't move Jack." The words were laced with command and Jack complied a bit unsure.  
  
"Daniel, what are you doing?" He tried to remain calm and in control. Something in the water must have affected Daniel's brain.  
  
Daniel bent down toward Jack's leg. Light reflected off the knife as it made its decent in slow motion. Jack was prepared to jump away when he noticed the thing attached to his leg.  
  
"GOD DAMN IT!" Jack held still, moving only his arms to punctuate his anger. "Alright, I want an answer and I want it *NOW*! Who broke the god damn mirror?"  
  
"Don't look at me. Quit fidgeting."  
  
"Cursed then."  
  
"Cursed?"  
  
"You know, like...May you live in exciting times."  
  
"I have no idea. There." Daniel snickered patting his leg. He looked up. "You didn't feel that thing?"  
  
Jack shuddered at the black slug held on the end of Daniel's knife. "Nope. But I think I really need to sit down."  
  
"NOT IN THE WATER!" Daniel grabbed Jack as he crumpled.  
  
~~~  
  
"So, tarsh...did the sleep thing work this time?" snicker "And it's your turn....I'm all bright eyed and bushed tailed now after my 'nap'."

"no... not really. Sleep is vastly overrated anyhow, right?" g 

"Sleep? I thought it was Chivalry. Oh well, to each his own. snarf Oh, and I have to ask this since we were discussing music in the 'survey with a twist of limey'...have you heard that song about the Discovery Channel yet?"

"nooo..."

"You and me baby, ain't nothin' but mammals. So lets do it like they do on the Discovery Channel...."  
  
Tarsh: this is getting long for all one post, so figured i'd start a second now. Starts from a little before the end of the last part, just to set the scene so to speak g.  
  
"You doing sets now, tarsh? I've got candles if you need them. eg Black ones. Red ones. Oh! Oh! Oh! And a dungeon." rotf  
  
"Be afraid. Be very afraid...."  
  
"Jason is lose again? How many times does it take to kill that guy? We'll have to feed him to the something-big-which-is-not-a-crocodile."  
  
"oh, and Rae, a Gryphon is fine. And the other thing was a Basilisk. Not that they got close enough to find that out. We'll have to remedy that sooner or later....  
  
snarf "Now you've spoiled the surprise. I was being facetious.  
  
shocked "You? Facetious? Never! um, and if you're reading this saga? just trust me, okay."  
  
"But you said to be afraid, and now I'm supposed to trust you. Which is it?"  
  
"yeah, yeah, stop laughing."  
  
"Don't wanna, and you can't make me." veg "Nener, nener, nener."  
  
"just remember - i wouldn't do that."  
  
"Yeah....riiiiigghht."  
  
"probably...."

"Would."  
  
weg  
  
(breathe, Gail....)

~~~

There were a great many rocks lying hidden beneath the brackish marsh water, and Daniel was convinced he hit every single one while hauling Jack's limp body to dry land.  
  
Well, as dry as land hereabouts seemed to get, anyway. It would no doubt be a good idea to get Jack out of the mud until he could wake him up and figure out why he'd fainted, but the best he could do was a knoll which seemed to be shedding handfuls of grass faster than he had his hair in the aftermath of that One Great Hairdying Adventure when he was fifteen.  
  
Carefully making sure there were no other slugs currently making a meal of either of them, Daniel laid Jack out and pondered his next step. Jack's breathing was a little fast, his pulse slightly erratic. When he looked, he discovered there were two red lines beginning to snake tentacles out from the slight puncture wound on Jack's leg.  
  
Swearing, he reached toward his belt for his snake-bite kit. Slugs were supposed to suck blood, damnit, not excrete poison. A soft moan from Jack and he hurried his movements, pulling out the knife and slicing quickly into the wound before applying suction in an attempt to remove the poison.  
  
The first mouthful he spat out tasted foul. He wouldn't have believed anything could possibly have tasted worse, if he hadn't had to do it again. By the third mouthful, his mouth was tingling, but the red lines that had been appearing about the wound had all but vanished. He kept it up for a little longer, wanting to get rid of all the poison, before tearing open one of the antiseptic packages and slathering it over the cut he had made. Slapping a bandage on top, he turned to check Jack's colour, hoping his friend would wake soon. It wasn't exactly ideal conditions for preventing infection; but until they could return to the Stargate it would have to do.  
  
He was concentrating so hard on checking the pulse in Jack's neck, he almost missed the hitch in his breathing.  
  
And it wasn't until he began to get dizzy from holding his own breath while listening for Jack's next that he realised it wasn't going to come.  
  
Afterwards, he never could quite remember how he managed to move through the panic that gripped him. He thought it was quite probably the taste of Jack's lips beneath his that brought him back to himself. Not quite the circumstances in which he'd dreamed of tasting them; and much as he wished it wasn't necessary, he couldn't quite bring himself to regret the memories he'd be building with the feel of firm flesh beneath his lips, the feel of Jack's chest rising with his breath, the soft warmth on his cheek as he turned his head to check the state of Jack's breathing.  
  
And he most certainly could not bring himself to forget the feel of Jack's tongue tracing softly over his lips, mere seconds before the man's eyes opened and he found himself staring frozen into the mesmerising orbs, feeling very much like a rabbit before a cobra....  
  
Given all that, it was really no wonder that the apparition standing just the other side of Jack came as a complete surprise.

~~~  
  
"okay, okay! don't kill me! he survived, alright?!"

sigh: "And you left it wide open for the Queen of Death? Please! That's like dangling a carrot before a horse. Or is that sugar? Apples? Too many lose screws rattling around in my brain. Think SEX. Think SEX. Think SEX. Damn....the muses have fallen into the angst zone. But on another note....I can WRITE again. [snarf] See what happens when you are suffering from writer's block?"

"All I want to know is, how come every time *you* get writer's block, *I* end up with Daniel and Jack swearing revenge in any and every which way they can manage, while Methos cackles evilly in my ear?! What time is it in Guam anyway? Hey, Rae, you up yet?! It's your turn."

"It just before midnight on the 11th." snicker And Methos is a smart lad. He knows what's coming next. Besides, it makes my muses so contrite. You should see them. They are huddling in the corner in terror. If yours are having such a hard time with my tactics, you could send them over here with your Duncanmusethatdoesn'texist. veg I have new toys that are just begging to be put to use....  
  
Oh good god! I didn't tell you about my little trip to The Block in Baltimore or my trip to South Street in Philly, did I? rotflmao It involved leather....(like you didn't already suspect that.) Now it's the 12th. And it's your turn."   
  
"Well, if you're having trouble deciding what it is they're looking at, well, there's always that basilisk they didn't get close enough to before eg. Although how something that big could sneak up on them... no matter what the distractions were..." snicker

rotf "I found something better."

tarsh: "you certainly did" snicker "Of course, you know we can't have one of those little blue twerps without the angel of death wandering not far behind, right?" eg  
  
"Ooooohhhhh.....Azrael. I have a muse if you need one. evil snicker Several versions in fact. Rae falls to the floor in a faint remembering one very long session with two of them, in a shower no less.  
  
"hmm, you said we needed feathers, maybe a phoenix?" g

"Nah...'drug' out the pigeons. I could capture you a few boonie chickens though."  
  
"Oh and did you know that pizza is either shrimp and garlic flavour or spicy chicken with Tabassco sauce? What happened to the pineapple? AND...CBS and the WB are one channel. Just thought I'd mention that." snarf  
  
~~~  
Fairy tales, friggin fairy tales. That had to be it. This was the lost island of Dr. Moreou. The land of the Bother's Grimm. Home of the big bad wolf, lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Dorothy and her little dog too! What was next? Quezalcoatl? Dragons? Elves?  
  
Daniel's head fell forward into his hands. This was just too much. 'Okay, think. Just what was going on here?' A sudden inspiration hit. 'It couldn't be this easy, could it?'  
  
The area around them began to change. Exotic plants sprouted. Pigeons roosted in the branches of northwest evergreens. And a vision of black birds swooping from the sky a la Alfred Hitchcock sprang into being. Daniel hastily erased the image replacing it with one of clear blue skies.  
  
Jack moaned from his position on the ground. Daniel fixed a memory in his mind of blue skies, calm seas, and rolling hills before turning to his friend.  
  
"Jack..." Daniel caressed the hard muscles beneath his fingers. "I need you to do something for me."  
  
Soft brown eyes tinged with pain opened at his words.  
  
"Don't think I'm going to be up to much here, Daniel."  
  
Biting back a rhetorical comment, Daniel let out a small sigh. "Jack, focus here. I need you blank out your mind. If you have to think of something, make it the best memory you possibly can and don't let it go."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I just figured out what is wrong with this planet."  
  
"And that is?"  
  
"It's using our memories against us."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I'll tell you about it later. Right now we need to concentrate on getting back to the Stargate. Think you can walk?"  
  
"Sure. In about a day or so." A bitter laugh spilled from dry lips.  
  
"Okay. I'll think of something, something safe." Daniel sat in the dry grass holding onto Jack's now limp hand. The man had fallen back into a restless sleep. It was amazing how much worthless knowledge he had collected over the years and now when he needed it most, it eluded him. Figuring out the planet fed off of their own thoughts was one thing. Beating it was another. And all it took was one small blue smurf still standing in the same spot to remind him.  
  
~~~

"Think SEX. Think SEX. Think SEX."  
  
"SEX. SEX. SEX. But you just knocked Jack back out, 

"He's suffering from poison! Gimme a break here! I couldn't just have Jack suddenly go into lust mode when he's too weak to do much more than concentrate on the pain, now could I? I mean, that would be like inviting list backlash. One of those golden rules of writing, kapish? Paranoia is one thing. Bad writing another." snarf

"and I don't think Danny really wants to go solo on this..." g

"Well I guess that means Rosy Palm and her five friends can't make an entrance. Damn. Could have cured his little problem quite well."

~~~  
  
And why did it have to be Brainy Smurf? He *despised* Brainy Smurf. Brainy Smurf was egotistical and insensitive and, for all his brains, really not that bright.  
  
So why did it have to be *that* particular smurf staring up at him?  
  
If it had been any other smurf, any other at all, he would have scooped the little guy up, and out of the way of the orange cat stalking rather incompetently toward him. But since it was Brainy, and he *despised* Brainy (and part of him never *had* gotten over the inevitable schoolyard comparisons), and since Brainy Smurf was about as incompetent as they come, he picked up Jack's hand and stroked it instead. And watched, only half unwillingly, as the annoying little midget met his death.  
  
Who knew smurfs bled yellow?  
  
And why wouldn't Jack wake up, anyway? They needed to get out of here. They especially needed to get away from the tiny pair of wire-rimmed glasses staring reproachfully up at him from a fold on Jack's shirt. No matter how many times he threw them away.  
  
This planet-forming business was a real pain.  
  
"Jack?" he rubbed his hand gently over his friends face. "Come on, Jack, wake up?" The skin was rough under his fingers, bristles scratching his palm. Before he could caught it, his mind had made the comparison to the feel of Jack's lips, soft and warm under his own, and his finger moved unconsciously to trace the moist curve.  
  
He blushed furiously when Jack's eyes opened, lips moving under his finger to shape his name. "Daniel?"  
  
He snatched his hand away, turning defensively to the side, and began to babble. He hated it when he babbled, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from focusing on the taste of Jack on his mouth, strong even with the aftertaste of the poison on his lips.  
  
"Uh, yeah, right. You're awake. That's good, that you're awake I mean. We need to get back to the Stargate. This planet, it's, it's dangerous, Jack-"  
  
A sardonic "No kiddin'," from Jack barely interrupted the flow of words from his mouth.  
  
"It takes what's in your mind, and shapes itself after it. We need to get out of here. Fast. Find the others and - oh, no. The others. Sam and Teal'c. Jack, we have to find them. Tell them what's going on. We have to-"  
  
Jack's hand came up to cover his mouth, halting the flow of words. He looked - bemused, that was the word. Confused. And very, very sexy. Daniel felt his brain slide to a screaming halt.  
  
"Daniel?"  
  
"Uh-"  
  
"You with us, Daniel?"  
  
"What?" God, his eyes. Such a rich colour, how had he never noticed their colour before? They were so warm, so amused and alive and comforting. How had he never noticed Jack's eyes before?  
  
"Daniel. Earth to Daniel."  
  
"Uh. Yeah. Right." He forced himself to focus; now was not the time to wax rhapsodic over eyes. Even if they were the nicest eyes he'd ever seen. Even if they were Jack's eyes.  
  
Jack's eyes? What the hell was he thinking?  
  
"Jack, we need to get out of here"  
  
"Yeah, so you were saying when I woke up. Want to run that by me again?"  
  
"The planet, it takes its shape from our minds."  
  
The confusion on Jack's face at that comment really was the most adorable thing, Daniel decided. Just a little more puzzlement in those beautiful eyes and he'd be easily the most kissable he'd ever seen the colonel. Kissable. Oh. His lips, they'd tasted so good....  
  
"Daniel?"  
  
Catching the alarm in Jack's voice, Daniel once again forced his attention back to Jack. But Jack wasn't watching him.  
  
"What the hell is happening to the landscape, Daniel?!"  
  
Daniel took a quick look round. The green hills he'd conjured earlier were fading, and he *really* didn't like the look of what was taking their place. Although, now that he came to think of it, the colour of that outcropping of rock just over there was a pretty good match for Jack's eyes...  
  
Oh. Shit. Quickly, he called up the scene of rolling hills, blue sky, calm seas that he'd used before. Sighed in relief as the background scenery wavered, then settled back to what it had been.  
  
"Daniel?" Jack was watching him very strangely all of a sudden. Very, very strangely. But oh, that shade of colour in his eyes was-  
  
Damn. There he went again. What *was* it with eyes all of a sudden? Let alone *Jack's* eyes. Jack was his friend, nothing more. Just his friend. Fantasies had to stay that. Right. And no matter *how* sexy he looked with that expression lighting the backs of his eyes, he absolutely could *not* lean over and kiss him. No matter how enticing the memory of his lips was. Jack had been dying then, for god's sake! What was *wrong* with him?  
  
"Daniel... What did you just do?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"The landscape. It was changing. I saw it. And then you... did something. Screwed up your forehead, got a sweet little line just," Jack reached out and tapped Daniel between his eyes, just above the bridge of his glasses, "*here*. Cute as all hell. And then the landscape, it just... stopped.  
  
"What the *hell* is going on?"  
  
Cute. He said *cute*. He called *him* cute. *Jack* called him cute.  
  
Oh, shit. Now he was hallucinating... this didn't bode well. Not well at all. Not on a planet that took your mind and used it against you....  
  
"Daniel? Concentrate for just a second here, will ya?" There was just a little impatience in Jack's voice.  
  
That was wrong, wasn't it? Shouldn't Jack have been yelling at him by now? But instead, he was looking at him, concern making his eyes luminescent, and-  
  
Damn it. *No*. He wouldn't do this again.  
  
"Uh, yeah. Right. The planet, it's - I don't know - *feeding* on us, somehow. Taking our memories, our subconscious, and using it against us. Try and keep your mind blank, ok Jack? Think of safe, pleasant things. Otherwise it'll pull the thought out of your mind and turn it real, and we'll be in more trouble than I think we know how to get out of."  
  
"Make them *real*?" Jack frowned. "You mean, we're talking Ghostbusters here?!" his voice was incredulous, a matching incredulity in his body language drawing Daniel's gaze back to his face. To his eyes. To those mesmerising, iridescent eyes...  
  
"What?"  
  
"You know, Ghostbusters. What you think is what you get. Remember that scene at the end? Where the stay-"  
  
A loud rumble overrode his words. Startled, Daniel and Jack whirled around, peering out over the hills behind them. "What on earth is *that*?" Daniel yelled, staring disbelievingly at the large, white, man-shaped creature approaching, stepping as easily over hills as he would have over rocks.  
  
Jack took one look and groaned. Looked at the clear puzzlement on Daniel's face and concluded that *he* had never seen Ghostbusters.  
  
Well, if nothing else, at least it proved Daniel's scatterbrained theory, he though, reaching for his gun and wishing desperately for a flamethrower....  
  
~~~ 

have our boys finally met their match? Was the combination of little blue smurfs and yellow blood just too much for Daniel's sanity? 

You know, I always wondered where Dijon Mustard came from.

And what *is* it with his sudden fascination for Jack's eyes, anyway?

It was the Dijon. It has aphrodisiac qualities. Just like chocolate.  
  
tune in next time for the next thrilling episode in Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire...

Same bat time, same bat channel...Kablaam!  
  
~~~  
  
ahem. Sorry.  
  
Not.  
  
Would you believe I couldn't help myself?  
  
Now that I would believe. Oh, and I almost used the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man too. I was really, really, really tempted to use him, but I thought the smurfs would make more of an impact. snarf  
  
At least it's moving vaguely in the sex direction, finally. At least, *Daniel's* thinking about it. Or he will be. Once he gets past that eye-thing and onto other more, uh, useful bits of Jack's anatomy....  
  
Hey, Jack's been thinking bout it too. He just hasn't had the time to really focus like Danny boy.  
  
~~~  
  
Suddenly weighted down, Jack stumbled and would have fallen on his face if Daniel hadn't grabbed his arm.  
  
"Jack?"  
  
"Flame-thrower." Jack whirled around and sent a stream of liquid fire in the direction of the large white being. A sickly, sweet smell filled the air, but the being just kept coming.  
  
"Daniel!"  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Aren't you the one who said blank out your mind?!"  
  
"Oh! Sorry."  
  
Roasting to a delicious brown, the monster's tread slowed. Like the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk, the marshmallow man fell to the ground thunder resonating across the quiet hills. Jack and Daniel were knocked off their feet with the impact, Jack landing with a grunt on Daniel. He stared into bright blue eyes that matched the colour of the sky.  
  
If Jack had thought Daniel's arms were hard, the feel of his body put that recent memory to shame. He'd wondered for a couple years now what it would feel like to be free to touch Daniel at will. Run his hands over the solid muscles hid beneath the baggy green uniform. These little touches, constant little mishaps fed his imagination in the middle of the night. Slick hard silk riding the storm to its apex. Breathy sighs filling the silence in the moonlight. Nirvana.  
  
It took a moment for Daniel to catch his breath. After all Jack's elbow was pressing on his stomach. But when he did look up, he found Jack staring at him with a glazed expression. His body immediately responded to the heat rolling off his friend and blood rocketed to his groin. Jack looked as if he had been given a genie in a bottle and it had granted his greatest wish.  
  
Mesmerized, Daniel watched the tip of Jack's tongue slide provocatively across his lips. 'Lush and sensual,' Daniel thought as he traced his fingers across the soft skin. Jack leaned into the caress, his mouth pressing feather soft kisses to his fingers. His tongue snaked out to capture the marshmallow treat that coated them both when the monster fell to the ground.  
  
"Got chocolate?"  
  
"Got milk?"  
  
"I will."  
  
~~~  
  
Sethra: Oh you just had to do it didn't you, the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man ROTFLMAO..... what next... I can't wait to find out. And thank God they're finally getting to the action, I was beginning to wonder if this was a slash list or not EG  
  
~~~  
  
Phsst, crackle, hiss "Er, Houston? We have lift off."  
  
~~~~  
  
Colour erupted all around them, but neither one noticed the grid breaking through the swirl of psychedelic waves. Grey-blue patches continued to spread leaving huge gaps in the mass as the pheromone level reached epic proportions in the room. Drawing energy from the surrounding atmosphere, Jack and Daniel had eyes only for each other.  
  
"Halodeck integrity down to 50%." The computer voice broke the hypnotic atmosphere surrounding the inhabitants of the space ship. O'Hara started as the images faded from the screen, panting loudly. Kirk pounded on his chair. 'Damn.' Spock rose an eyebrow at the show of temper from *his* Captain.  
  
"What..happened?"  
  
"Captain, the circuits are unable to handle the mass of energy needed to sustain contact."  
  
"Damn it, Spock. We..have..to..reestablish..the psychic link." Captain Kirk pressed a button on his chair console. "Scotty, we need more power."  
  
"I'm givin' it all she's got, Cap'in, but she can't take much more."  
  
~~~  
  
Sorry! I just couldn't resist. rotflmao This little scene hit me as I was taking a shower. snicker

oh, come on, Rae. You expect us to believe that? Be honest: you didn't even *try* to resist. g

Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated! rotflmao Say, I wonder if John Crichton ever met a Borg in his travels. snarf   
  
~~~  
  
Sethra: Oh groan, I have to pay you the compliment of pointing out that you are a truly sick and twisted person and I like it LOL, just tooo funny  
  
Sethra ooooo the images, the images.... in a fairly campy impersonation of the original Dr Smith  
  
~~~  
  
Tarsh: is anyone but me worried at what them having sex is going to do to a world that takes its form from their mindset? And what that world is then in turn going to do to *them*? snicker  
  
Even if it is a holodeck....  
  
--tarsh, feeling far too vindictive to risk writing this now. Really. BWAhahahaHA...  
  
~~~  
  
Jinx: Um, Rae? Are you sure something *else* didn't hit you while you were showering? Bottle of shampoo? Slip on soap and hit your head? snerk :)  
  
~~~  
  
"You... ah... you missed ... missed a spot...."  
  
Jack was barely able to form the words, so intent was he on the feel of Daniel's mouth on him at last. And best of all was the knowledge that this *was* Daniel - that he wasn't going to wake up just before he climaxed, to find himself sweating and alone and needy in his bed. This was *real*; the heat of Daniel's hands roughly exploring up under his shirt, the soft burn of his fingertips scratching across far-too-sensitive skin, the nip of his teeth along his neck, quickly soothed by a slow and thorough lapping of Daniel's tongue. He arched his neck back, moaning, begging for more; more contact, more caresses, more *daniel*.  
  
He'd never in his life imagined he'd be grateful for getting bitten by something poisonous; but the ache in his leg was almost the best part of this - the part that let him know this was here, this was happening, this was *real*.  
  
"Hmmm?" Daniel's soft inquiry murmured against his skin, hot breath blowing over the monster hickey he just *knew* he was going to have when Daniel finally pulled away. He jumped, slightly shocked by how *good* it felt to have Daniel sucking on his neck like he never wanted to stop. Daniel 'hmmm'ed again, enchanted with the reaction the vibrations engendered in Jack. For his part, Jack let his head fall back even further, before suddenly dropping his to the grass beneath them, using his weight and momentum to yank Daniel down on top of him.  
  
Startled wide eyes looked down at him, and he couldn't help laughing. Daniel looked so *cute* like this, all wild-eyed and needy, and it just felt so damned *good* to be lying here at last, Daniel's weight pressing him into the solid earth beneath, the scent of flowers and grass lingering in the air about them.  
  
Daniel had a vaguely offended air about him at the laughter, like a cat dumped out of a lap, and all it did was make Jack laugh harder. God, but he was sexy like this. And unless he was very much mistaken, that *wasn't* a gun in Daniel's pocket; and he was enjoying this as much as Jack was.  
  
Daniel's vaguely offended air turned predatory and dangerous the longer Jack laughed, but he couldn't seem to stop. It was just *too* good, too close to too many fantasies, and he realised he didn't even *want* to stop, particularly - Daniel looking predatory was having far too interesting an effect on his cock - and if laughing just made him look more so, then he was all for it. It wasn't as though he was laughing *at* Daniel, after all....  
  
Daniel evidently got tired of waiting for Jack to quit laughing and explain himself, and had decided to take matters into his own hands. For very suddenly, Jack found himself with an armful of attack!Daniel; the man's hands were *everywhere*, and, oh god, the things he could do - was doing - with his tongue... his laughter stopped like someone had thrown a switch, replaced with moans and whimpers, pleading little sounds Daniel clearly loved to hear.  
  
It didn't take long for Daniel to reduce Jack to a whimpering puddle of putty beneath him; but he didn't let up on his assault in the least. Jack wriggled beneath Daniel, trying to get that wonderfully talented mouth to alight on one or the other of his nipples; stop *teasing* so damned cleverly and deliver. Daniel allowed the squirming, but removed his mouth, leaning up on his elbows and casually running one calloused fingertip across the path his mouth had taken. He surveyed Jack with what could only be described as a proprietary air; and from the wicked grin that graced those eminently kissable lips, it was very clear that he liked what he saw.  
  
Jack managed to retrieve from some part of his glazed and lust-filled brain the coordination to reach up and yank Daniel back down on him again. As Daniel's lips once again met his skin, it occurred to him that somewhere in the proceedings he'd lost his shirt; he couldn't quite recall where. He couldn't quite dredge up the energy to care, either; the feel of Daniel's tongue and hands working him over was far more important than petty details like clothing. Particularly when those long, clever fingers were toying with his waistband, dipping slightly beneath, then up above again, caressing and stroking as they went. And sliding progressively deeper each time they ventured forth... Jack became rather violently aware of certain pressing parts of his anatomy, and pushed his hips hard up against Daniel, moaning at the contact.  
  
Daniel smiled, loving the way Jack responded so readily to his touch. He'd wanted to have the colonel like this for far too long; had wonderfully detailed dreams and spent far, far too many hours beneath distressingly cold showers trying to recover from the aftereffects of such dreams. But this - this was real. This was Jack, here, now, writhing beneath him. Almost out of control and completely at his mercy.  
  
And it was far, far better than any dream he'd *ever* had. Jack's fatigues came undone easily under Daniel's eager fingers; although gaining Jack's attention long enough to lift his hips and slide them down and out of the way took far longer. Probably because he couldn't seem to resist tasting each new centimetre of skin as it was exposed; had to go over it again, thoroughly, with tongue and teeth and fingers, fixing the taste and feel of this wondrous man beneath him into his memory for all eternity. Even if this was just some strange chemical side-effect of the slug on Jack's part, Daniel was going to be able to feed off this encounter for *months*.  
  
And if it wasn't; if it was real and would be real still when they stepped back through the Stargate-  
  
Daniel couldn't contain the joy bursting inside him with that thought. Besides, Jack had recovered enough of his equilibrium to begin making inroads on Daniel's own control; and he was determined that this, their first time, he would remember *always*. Every little detail, every little moan and whimper and plea; and now that he came to think of it, the man wasn't making *near* enough of those for his taste.  
  
So he did the most distracting thing he could think of. The fact that it was what he most wanted to do right now had nothing to do with his choice; no, it was just that he wanted Jack writhing and compliant and unable to think, and he wanted him that way *now*.  
  
So swallowing Jack's freshly revealed cock whole was merely the best way to that goal. That he'd been dreaming of this moment for years now just made it that much sweeter.  
  
Jack arched up, screamed his pleasure. Daniel eagerly tasted the hard cock in his mouth; savoured the length of it, pressing solid against the back of his throat. Inhaled the musky scent of the other man's body, here, in this most personal of spots. He drew back slowly, enjoying the shudders of the body beneath him as he scraped his teeth lightly across the sensitive flesh. Swirled his tongue around the crown, savouring the taste of precome, lingering atop the tip. Then reversed his actions, going down on Jack torturously slowly, his greater leverage easily holding back Jack's hips as the man thrashed beneath him, his cock seeking its way back inside that hot, moist cavern it craved. When his nose was once again buried in the musk of Jack's groin, he hummed, gently, in the back of his throat, loving the whimper of pure pleasure this elicited.  
  
It was perfect. So absolutely perfect; far, far better than he'd ever dreamt it could be. The smell, the feel, the sight, and especially the taste of Jack, held pliant and helpless beneath him, reduced to a whimpering puddle of nerve endings by *him*, Daniel Jackson, and begging for release. He figured the cat with the canary had *nothing* on him.  
  
Except for one small thing. Well, two small things. There was still far too much cloth between his skin and Jack's; in the rush to reduce Jack to this needy pile of desire, he hadn't taken the time to do much more than throw off his jacket.  
  
And he couldn't quite escape the feeling of being watched. He knew they were alone; at least, he was fairly certain they had been when they'd started this. Admittedly he hadn't been paying much attention to his surroundings since then. But if Teal'c and Sam had found them, surely they would have said something, or else retreated politely. And yet... he could *feel* someone watching him. Watching them.  
  
He raised his gaze, being careful to never quite let Jack's cock slip from his mouth. He surveyed the expanse of sweat-slicked skin before him, traced the hills and valleys of a tightly-muscled body. Smiled around the cock in his mouth to see the way in which Jack was straining to remain still, his head rolling from side to side in an effort not to just thrust his cock as far as it would go into Daniel's throat. He brought his gaze back down again, intending to drive Jack a wee bit more mad before moving on to other things; but his gaze caught about halfway down and he stared, horrified, before letting Jack's cock slip from between his lips. He dropped his head, swearing.  
  
After a minute he looked up, hopefully; but no, it was still there. Just sitting there, on Jack's chest, just below his left nipple. Staring reproachfully at him. Clothes, such as they were, stained with yellow.  
  
The damn smurf was back.  
  
~~~  
  
Sekh: *ROFLAO* You really should put a warning on these things hun g  
~~~  
  
Rae: Aye, Cap't. She be wan'tin o warnin'.  
  
cough, cough, cough I really have to quit channelling bad accents. Ahem, well then...  
  
Warning: Reading this sorry excuse for a tale may be hazardous to your bad mood. We make no claims to be serious or promises to actually *keep* to the plot line, such as one exists. Furthermore, all characters borrowed will be claimed by the appropriate personnel at the end of their contracts. Unfortunately for them, those contracts are unconditional and open ended. (Which of course means that they can't tie us up in court with re-negotiations. H/C fans Unite!) Any similarities to characters living or dead, are not our fault. They should have stayed in the grave and left us alone. No animals have been harmed in the creation of this tale, but some got it in the end. THE SMURFS MUST DIE!  
  
Er, sorry.  
  
No you're not.  
  
Well I can at least pretend right?  
  
snarf In your dreams.  
  
I thought this was a dream.  
  
Since you put it that way...  
  
tarshaan wrote: And Rae? I see the writer's block got demolished snicker. Your turn!  
  
Oh yeah, bit the dust, big time! I sent it to Mexico and it got caught in this little backwater road stop. They bleed it dry. evil snicker  
  
~~~  
  
"God damn it, Daniel! You're killing me here!" Breathing harshly, Jack opened his eyes to find Daniel staring horrified at his chest. Expecting some new torture and swearing under his breath, Jack looked down. It was just a damn smurf. "This, uh, wouldn't be from your imagination, would it?" Jack asked hopefully.  
  
"Not on your life."  
  
"Daniel!"  
  
"Sorry. Smurfs aren't exactly my thing. You?"  
  
Jack had the grace to blush. "Well you said something safe. It was the safest thing I could think of at the time."  
  
"I hate to point this out, but we *were* having a moment."  
  
"So it's my fault now?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
Jack grabbed a sock from the ground and starting putting it on.  
  
"Well!"  
  
"Well what?"  
  
"Are you going to get rid of the damn thing?"  
  
"I can't."  
  
"You can't." Daniel sighed. "Why not?"  
  
"I already tried. It's not working."  
  
"Just imagine it away, Jack."  
  
"Don't you get it, Daniel? I *tried*. Something else is keeping it here. See! It's flickering."  
  
"I'm calling in re-inforcements."  
  
Warily, Jack waited to see what Daniel would come up with. He had a raging hard on that was not getting any better and right now all he wanted was to just jump the Archaeologist, smurf or no smurf. Daniel turned to him with a shrug of his shoulders and a half apologetic, half embarrassed grimace on his face. Jack began to worry. Really worry.  
  
"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!" Daniel yelled.  
  
"Couldn't you have just had a 'Drop Dead Fred' like everyone else?" Jack moaned.  
  
"I was already getting picked on, Jack. I needed someone with artillery."  
  
"Well why didn't you say so!" Jack plucked a nine mil from the air and shot at the smurf. It reappeared.  
  
"Oooh, smurfs. Where's my Tabasco sauce?"  
  
"Back pocket."  
  
"Right, where else would it be?" Jack threw his hands up in the air and walked around butt naked.  
  
"Say, Daniel?" Beetlejuice eyed the oh-so-delicious Colonel wandering around with one sock on and one sock off.  
  
"What!?"  
  
"When did you get such good looking playmates?"  
  
"I've grown up, if you haven't noticed."  
  
"Well, duh. Still need to find, um, something sweet for myself. If you know what I mean." Beetlejuice elbowed Daniel as  
he leered at the Colonel.  
  
"Don't even think about it." Jack warned, his clothes suddenly appearing on his body as if by magic.  
  
"Look...," Daniel began.  
  
"Oh but I am." Drool appeared from the corner of his mouth and his tongue dropped to the floor.  
  
"Beetlejuice..."  
  
"Don't say it!" A widget gun appeared in Beetlejuice's hands and he tacked a piece of metal over Daniel's mouth in a flash.  
  
"Nice friend you've got there Daniel." Jack turned the metal into duct tape and pulled it off of Daniel's mouth.  
  
"OW! Couldn't just have imagined it away?"  
  
"What's the fun in that?"  
  
"I give up!"  
  
"You called him."  
  
"So?"  
  
"Well, get rid of him."  
  
"I want him to get rid of the fucking smurf!"  
  
"Daniel! Such language! I always knew you had it in you."  
  
"Strangely enough, that's what I was trying to accomplish."  
  
"Well, I'll just go find myself some flies." Beetlejuice morphed into an odd caricature of an old lady, and swallowed the smurf whole. "Tasty."  
  
"I'm going to find the Gate. Daniel, he's your problem."  
  
"Oh, thanks Jack. You're a real pal."  
  
"Anytime. At least once I get back to my own universe, I can get laid."  
  
"You're such an ass."  
  
"Am not"  
  
"Are too."  
  
"Am not."  
  
"Are too."  
  
"Am not."  
  
"Are too."  
  
"Hey, Daniel. Who's the babe?"  
  
Daniel turned around to find Sam and Teal'c standing less than ten feet away, staring at them with rapt fascination.  
  
"Colonel?" Sam tentatively started.  
  
"Don't ask."  
  
"Beetlejuice, Sam. Sam, Beetle..." Daniel found yet another piece of metal slapped over his mouth. Rolling his eyes, he imagined the tin away himself this time. "Beetlejuice." His playmate disappeared.  
  
"I don't want to know." Sam started laughing.  
  
"What'd ya say we all head home and compare notes? Before we die?" Jack limped a little ways off before turning around to glare at his team. "Now would be good."  
  
Raising an eyebrow in the Colonel's direction, Teal'c started off but stopped to pick a piece of wood off the ground. "I have found something of interest, DanielJackson."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"It seems to be a mask."  
  
Three voices chorused at once..."PUT IT DOWN!" "OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" "NO! DON'T!"  
  
"Yet another earth custom, CaptainCarter?"  
  
"You have no idea, Teal'c. No idea at all."  
  
With that, the group headed off toward the gate, Jack just shaking his head the entire time. "No way in hell I'm explaining this one. No way in hell."  
  
It started to rain. Hard.  
  
"Well, that solves that problem."  
  
~~~  
  
Tune in tomorrow for the exciting conclusion of 'Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire'. Will our team ever make it to the Gate? Will Jack and Daniel get to finish what they started? Who needed the cold shower? And why were they on the halodeck anyway? Who's the one who keeps bringing back the smurfs? What happened to Sam and Teal'c while the boys were, er, playing? And just where did that mask come from?  
  
Why are you asking me? I don't know! It's tarsh's turn. rotflmao  
  
~~~  
  
Now you know how Daniel survived childhood. (Hey, I didn't say it would be pleasant. snarf) And that, they say, is the *rest* of the story. Say, did you know that elephants can paint? And what does this have to do with the price of tea in China? Absofuckinglutely nothing. snicker Good Day.  
  
~~~  
  
  



End file.
